The Black Death
by child-dragon
Summary: So why do Claude and Sebastian dislike each other so much?  Perhaps the answer goes way back... and if not, this bit of speculation is still a fun read anyway.


The devil held the rat by the tail, watching it squirm in panic before him, legs thrashing in increasing desperation. Finally it gained a purchase and swung itself up onto the hem of the devil's sleeve, sinking its teeth into the pale and slender wrist as it did so, maddened by its torment. The blood that burst free was somehow darker – fouler – and the rat let out a squeak of terror and forgetting the dizzying height, jumped. It bounced when it hit the ground and scrambled across the cobblestone floor until it reached a set of stairs.

There, a leather boot heel snapped its neck.

"That was rather unnecessary," Sebastian said dourly. That was not his name at the time – that name would not come until much later, but who would dare putting a devil's true name down on paper? Sebastian will suffice.

"Do not complain to me about fairness," the arrival snapped in response. Sebastian turned to face the man. It was dark in the cellar but neither needed light to see. Both were tall with fine features and a delicate frame, black hair worn long. Sebastian bound his back at the nape of his neck while the other let his hang loose at shoulder length. Both wore rich clothing – linens trimmed with silk on the sleeves, dark colors of black and blood red, trim shot through with midnight blue. And one carried a sword at his waist. Claude.

"I hold you fully responsible for this debacle," he said.

The devil advanced fully into the cellar. Sebastian held his ground. This was... dangerous. In the past Sebastian had been forced to restrain himself as the populace were eager to call upon heaven to save them if he were too overt in what he was, and heaven seemed obliged to answer these days. But things were changing – far faster than he had anticipated. Now he could act openly. And so could Claude. Sebastian decided to force the devil to delay his actions, to go through formalities and give him time to calm down.

Of course, being Claude, that was unlikely.

"I was under the impression my work was quite useful," Sebastian replied mildly, his eyes roaming over the dead rat discarded at the stairs, "It has thrown the populace in complete turmoil."

"Yes!" Claude hissed, "Your plague! It destroys the towns. Leaves the crops in ruin. It's a beautiful thing to witness – but you knew this was my territory and I find you lurking in the shadows like the damnable rats you bring."

"I'm not terribly fond of rats," Sebastian murmured, "They're convenient. Please do not liken me to them."

"I'll liken you to whatever I want."

And the devil was only a step away now. The faint red glow of his eyes was brighter than the filtered sunlight from the stairwell.

"I'm afraid I can't keep track of every devil roaming the countryside," Sebastian said mildly, "You lot move about without purpose-"

"I had a place!" Claude roared, the fury within finally snapping. He backhanded Sebastian and the force of the blow sent the devil smashing into the far wall. He doubled over, shuddering at the pain and his eyes were tinted red too and a thin smile played on his lips. There was the taste of blood in his mouth. Sebastian remained half-crouched, tense like a cat and ready to anticipate Claude's movements this time. Let him be careless in his anger.

"I had a soul," Claude continued, "One of the nobility. Tell me, do you see that pact now?"

Sebastian didn't have to look at Claude's hand to know the answer. So she was dead. What a shame.

"Then you get to collect her soul," he said, "I don't see why you're so upset."

"It wasn't time! And better – do you know where she died!"

He flung one hand to point towards the south. Ah. This was actually quite amusing.

"They carried her there," Claude said, "After she died. I was away – on her business! - and she died. I wasn't there."

"And they entombed her in a church."

"A cathedral!"

There it was, the crux of the problem. Sebastian started to laugh – Claude's misfortune was just too sweet. It was intoxicating. There was no agony like that of another devil, a forbidden fruit, something that he so rarely tasted. Faith was being washed away across Europe as the ravages of the Black Death stripped flesh from bone but certain areas blossomed like candles and heaven still heeded the call of those. Cathedrals – they were anathema to his kind. The dedication of lifetimes of work, the grandest gift that could be given to God. Even if the motives were not entirely pure behind the church official who commissioned it there were enough people working on the structure that faith seeped into the foundation, the walls, and the arches until it seemed the very air inside was toxic with it.

Claude couldn't get at the girl's body. Her soul was stuck inside, waiting to be claimed, and Claude couldn't get at it. Perhaps even a representative of heaven would dare break the pact. They did that, sometimes, seemingly on a whim.

The devil moved fast, his eyes blazing red now with anger and he whipped the sword free of the scabbard and lunged. Sebastian didn't move. It hit him just below the diaphragm and ran into the brick of the cellar behind him, pinning him to the wall. Sebastian gasped, his laugh cut short, and coughed up a thick goblet of blood. His tunic was ruined. Absolutely ruined.

"I'll take my pleasure from you, if I can't have her soul," Claude growled, grabbing Sebastian's hair and tilting his head up to meet his eyes, "I'll leave you broken on the towers of that cathedral and see if heaven decides to wipe you out. Go on, laugh for me again. Please."

"You..." Sebastian gasped. It was hard to breath.

"Begging already?" Claude sounded disappointed.

"You... rely too much on swords."

And Sebastian tore himself free, slamming a shoulder into Claude's chest and bearing him to the ground. Then he grabbed the other devil around the waist and jumped. The two smashed through the ceiling of the cellar and the building caved in behind them in a gout of ash. The gutted remains of the town lay below them and Sebastian jabbed twice with each hand, one blow to Claude's back, one blow to the ribcage. Bones shattered at each touch. The devil still landed on his feet, dropping to a low crouch, but he favored one side and Sebastian landed lightly opposite him. Both were breathing hard. Both were trembling more with excitement than pain. A battle between devils so rarely happened and with so many dead around them – they could do whatever they wanted. This land was theirs now and it was all because of a swarm of rats.

Not his finest work, Sebastian had to admit, but it was certainly effective.

"You're so straightforward," Sebastian chided, "Predictable. Maybe if you worked at that you could stand a chance."

"I haven't lost yet!"

"Yes. You have."

The devil smiled again, thin-lipped, and Claude's brow creased in sudden concern. But Sebastian merely raised a hand and blew a cloud of ash off his palm. The rat bite stood out in vivid relief against his skin, puckered and red. Claude's look of trepidation slowly vanished and Sebastian could see that he was readying himself for another attack. No imagination at all. Sebastian was disappointed. Was this really one of his peers?

"Do you really believe it's the rats carrying the Black Death?" Sebastian asked scornfully, "They're merely a means of transport. They don't have the plague in them."

Claude shuddered. He fell to all fours and coughed. Black blood splattered on the ground in response.

"It's ash," Sebastian said quietly, digging his fingers into the ground, "And blood. Devil's blood. My blood."

He drew his fingers across his stomach and held them up, slick and red. Claude was shivering violently now.

"I mix it, give it potency and life, dust it on the rats. It gets in their ears, their eyes, their blood and then their fleas drink that and carry it to the humans. And I just blew enough dust to kill London in your face."

Claude wasn't really listening now. He was struggling to fight off spasms that drove him to the ground, choking as fluid filled his lungs. Sebastian stood and walked to loom over the prone devil.

"You won't die," he said mildly, "Just consider this a... learning opportunity. Perhaps next time we meet you'll be a bit cleverer."

And laughing, Sebastian stood and walked away, leaving the devil behind in the ruins of the smoking town.


End file.
